


Nothing

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alcoholism, Angst, Backstory, Child Abuse, Dreams, M/M, Mental Disorders, Richard's mum, selfcest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 05:50:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard was terrified of sleeping. he didn't know when he would dream and when he wouldn't. He didn't know if Jim would hurt him or pleasure him or try to do both. He didn't know if Jim would force Richard down and take over even though Richard didn't want to lose control. He couldn't predict Jim, not in the slightest and that outright terrified him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing

Richard was terrified of sleeping. he didn't know when he would dream and when he wouldn't. He didn't know if Jim would hurt him or pleasure him or try to do both. He didn't know if Jim would force Richard down and take over even though Richard didn't want to lose control. He couldn't predict Jim, not in the slightest and that outright terrified him.

Then there was the place where he went when he dreamt. That was a completely different matter. The place he went when he was dreaming was white. It was white and infinite, it had no walls and no floor, but there was something for Richard to walk on, though it was like walking on air. And sometimes it felt like he was floating in the abyss, never ending, always so bright.

Richard hated sleeping.

He'd started staying up late nearly every night, only falling asleep when he had to, when his head would lull and he would drop down and drool on the book he was reading, and even then, sleep was shallow and troubled. It felt more like falling than anything else. He was exhausted and it was obvious in the way he moved, stumbling and slow, almost like he was drunk.

Richard's grades were dropping. He didn't let Jim take over at all to help him, even though it would only take Jim about an hour to get Richard's homework done in the evening, he was much smarter than Richard and more goal oriented.

But no, Richard couldn't trust Jim. Jim had made everything horrible. After Carl had died, a small, dark haired boy years younger than Richard came to their school for a day, asking about Carl, starting rumors that it was Richard's fault that Carl died. Everyone was avoiding him now, which was fine, really, now all he had was the bruises his da gave him

But there were a few problems to his method of sleep deprivation. There was only so much he could do to not sleep, then there were the hallucinations which started partially through the week, making it even harder to focus in class, made him run home straight after school, thinking he was being followed, if he even looked to see what it was would mean getting caught.

And when he was tired it was easier for Jim to speak to him. On normal days, Jim would talk to him until about lunch, then start talking to him again when da came home, but until today, Jim had been near silent, and when he did talk, it was like he was yelling and his voice was louder than anything else.

\---

Two weeks into Richard's forced exhaustion and he was near breaking point. Everything hurt so much, he'd been fighting back tears all day and Jim had been screaming at him, so loud, telling him over and over how much he was hated, how worthless he was and Richard couldn't wait to get home, things were at least a bit quieter at home, where didn't have to listen to anything.

Richard didn't run home this time, instead he took his time, avoiding everyone he could, he had to talk to Jim.

_Honey, you need sleep._

"I don't want it," Richard slurred in return, finding forming words a bit difficult. He found everything a bit difficult at the moment.

_It's unhealthy, what you're doing._

"I know." Richard heard someone walking behind him, the distinct sound of high heels on pavement and he tensed, hoping who ever it was hadn't heard. He crossed the street and the sound went away, thank god. He wasn't sure he would be able to handle it if someone was near while he was talking to Jim.

_I want to talk to you._

"No." Richard was at his house now, shaky hands opening the door, pausing to listen for any signs of life and gasping in relief when there weren't any. He hurried up the stairs, slamming the door and collapsing on his bed.

_Please. Just close your eyes._

"No, I… I don't…" Richard still owed Jim for… he couldn't even remember what, but the whole fact that to Jim that meant sex in some form from Richard scared him, what if he went for penetration this time?

_I won't want sex with you, I just want to talk to you._

Richard crawled under the duvet and curled up in a ball.

_Please._

A few minutes couldn't hurt.

\---

It was more like being pushed than falling asleep. When Richard closed his eyes he was almost immediately gasping awake in the infinite white, Jim next to him, hugging him tightly when Richard noticed the other boy. Richard was still slightly lethargic but feeling far more rested than he had in what felt like months.

"I missed you," Jim gasped, burying his face in Richard's neck and Richard didn't know what to do, just awkwardly held Jim while he practically sobbed into Richard's shirt. "Why didn't you want to see me?"

Richard shook his head, he knew why, he just couldn't say it. Jim made him hate himself, Jim terrified him, Jim had made him completely break down, it had taken days to feel like he could see straight and remember what reality was after that.

"I…" Richard started but Jim just shook his head.

"No, I know just… Can I kiss you?" The question was so sudden, Richard didn't even think before nodding. Jim was on him in an instant, it was more licking than kissing and Richard opened his mouth, feeling Jim's tongue inside for a moment before dropping harshly back into reality and nearly yelling in shock.

Richard tired to push Jim off him but all that did was spur the boy onwards until Richard was on his back, Jim pressing his shoulder into the ground, still licking at his mouth and sucking on his lips, his hands starting to go for Richard's crotch.

Richard closed his eyes and grit his teeth, no, not here, not again.

"Stop," he said and Jim didn't. Richard tried to breath but found he couldn’t.

"Stop!" he said again, but shouted it and Jim heard him this time, pulling his hand away just as he was about to undo the button on Richard's jeans. Jim sat back moving up so he didn't have to let go of Richard's shoulder, not letting him up. Jim seemed so much bigger like this, and Richard knew for a fact he was stronger and he was terrified.

"Richie," Jim whined. "Richie, don't you want me?"

Richard shook his head, feeling like crying but he was so tired, so sick of being hurt and abused he just couldn't force the tears to come.

"No! No, I don't, you said you wouldn't, you said you wanted to talk!" he squeaked, struggling beneath Jim, wanting space, wanting to feel like he could breath again.

"Oh, fine. I want to show you something," Jim said and Richard tried not to go tense at the words. Jim reached his free hand up to stroke Richard's face. "Close your eyes."

Richard closed his eyes.

\---

They'd been fighting for hours now. Richard had brought himself into his room when he was supposed to, at eight sharp. He'd pulled on his pajama's, the stiff, warm ones, and some socks so he wouldn't make as much noise and went and sat on the top step, listening to mum and da fight and throw glasses and plates at each other.

"Are you even thinking about him when you go out like that?" he heard mum shriek, her voice hoarse and shrill and they were talking about him now, oh no.

"Of course I had been!" he heard da reply and mum sobbed.

"Why are you hurting us like this? Why do you think this is okay, I should go to the police, this is abuse!"

There was quiet for a moment, then a sharp crack that Richard couldn't identify and mum yelled and started crying even louder.

"No, _that's_ abuse," his da said, voice low and he heard mum moving towards the stairway, screaming over her shoulder. Richard had stopped paying attention, he was scrambling to his feet, stumbling into his room and nearly slamming the door behind him, but not exactly, he didn't want to make any noise. Richard leapt into bed, pulling the covers up over him and tried to clear his thoughts, calm down, everything would be fine in the morning, he'd come downstairs, and mum would make him french toast and everything would be alright.

Richard didn't sleep. About half an hour later he heard the door open and curled up into an even smaller ball, afraid it was da. He heard the slight hiccup from the doorway and felt arms around him and knew that it wasn't.

"Mummy," Richard whined, burying his face in her neck and smelling her shampoo and perfume.

"Richie, honey, I'm so sorry for fighting with your da," she said and kissed his forehead, running a hand over his cheek then holding him close again. He wrapped his arms around her neck and felt her warmth and comfort, his shoulders not shaking for the first time in what felt like hours.

"Mummy," Richard said again. " _Mummy_. Mummy, did da hurt you?"

She nodded. And Richard started crying softly, knowing not to make too much noise.

"I'm so sorry, Richie," she said and kissed him on the forehead again. "Lay down and sleep, honey, we'll be alright."

Richard nodded tearfully and stretched out on his bed, feeling mum rub his stomach and listening to her sing softly to herself, old songs in a language that he didn't understand that her grandmother had taught her years ago.

When he woke up in the morning she was gone.

\---

Richard gasped awake, Jim still sitting on his stomach, grinning wickedly. Richard felt tears in his eyes and started squirming under Jim's weight, he wanted to get up, he wanted to leave, he wanted Jim off of him at least.

Eventually he gave up trying to get out and just lay there crying, he missed his mum so much and most days he didn't even remember her, it made him feel so bloody sick to think about, to know how he'd been and what da had been doing to her.

"Why?" he screamed. "Why did you do that to me?"

Jim's free hand came up and wrapped around Richard's neck, squeezing gently making him gasp in panic, was Jim going to kill him?

"To show you that I can," Jim replied honestly, rolling off Richard and finally letting his grip on his shoulder go. Richard tried to sit up then, but it felt like he was tied down, tied to the floor.

Jim watched Richard and Richard watched back, waiting for something to happen.

And then suddenly he was falling. He didn't know how long he was falling, he just knew that he was and he had to scream and when he hit the ground it was going to hurt.

 But it didn't hurt. It was more like just stopping in mid air, except air was thick here and you could walk on it. Jim was beside him, it was like he hadn't moved and Richard was struggling for air, this wasn't supposed to be happening, make it stop, this wasn't healthy, this wasn't sane.

Richard was able to sit up this time and Jim held him and helped him breath again.

"Why… Why are you…" Richard couldn't manage finishing the sentence, just let it drift as he was, nothing. Nothing. Everything was nothing.

"Because I love you and you can't keep ignoring me like this, Richie. We have to talk, I need to have control, this isn't working for us," Jim replied silkily, running his hand through Richard's hair making Richard hate himself for loving the touch.

"You hurt me."  
            "I don't mean to. Can I kiss you again?"

Richard swallowed and nodded, knowing it wasn't the best thing to do, but he wanted comfort, something to distract himself. The kiss was less hungry this time, Jim took his time with it, letting Richard have more control over the situation.

Jim was tugging at them hem of Richard's shirt soon enough, but Richard pulled away, hiding his face.

"No…" he mumbled, feeling so tired, he just wanted to sleep.

"Please, Richie," Jim begged, reaching out a hand. Richard didn't look up.

"What do you want from me?" Richard squeaked, pushing himself back, almost hitting Jim's hand away.

"Everything. You're mine. Why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you! I hate myself."

"Rich, I can make it better, I promi-"

"Why did you bring up mum?" Richard shrieked suddenly, cutting Jim off. "I didn't have to see that, I was forgetting, Jim, why?"

Something dark had fallen across Jim's face and Richard was terrified, ore than he had been before, Jim looked absolutely deadly like this. It shouldn't be possible for such a young face to look so absolutely demonic.

"I want to know what I can do to you, Richie, and I don't know it all yet," Jim answered shortly.

"Wh-what… What are you talking about?" Richard scrambled backwards, just wanting space but not finding any.

"This space… This… this in-between, the nothing in between our personalities, the part of it you're so afraid of is the part I control. You can manage the real world and I have your head," Jim explained, moving closer.

"The Nothing," Richard echoed, thinking that this was exactly what this place was. Absolutely Nothing. "Why did you pick mum leaving to bring up?"

"Because you'd forgotten." Jim said it as if it were common knowledge like Richard was a child asking, oh, how do you mix purple again?

Richard nodded and tried not to look at Jim. "If I get you off will you let me wake up?"

"Of course, darling," Jim purred and Richard swallowed audibly, trying not to cry all of a sudden. Hadn't he created Jim to have a friend in his head? Wasn’t' that the point of him? No, Jim was just a voice. A low, muttering voice that would always make Richard feel alone like this. Always alone.

"What if I don't?" Richard hazarded, moving forward slightly, trying not to encourage Jim, but still inching closer ever so slightly.

"Then we can sit here and think about our life decisions," Jim answered proudly, pulling Richard close and Richard decided to think about his life decisions, sleeping, actual sleeping, could wait.

\----

When Richard woke up da wasn't home and he wished he hadn't remembered what day it was.

"Eight years," he said out loud and sighed. Eight years was too long for a thirteen year old boy. Eight years was too long for anyone.

_Eight years and you have me now._

Richard just sighed and let his eyes close so he could sleep some more, knowing he wouldn't dream.


End file.
